


Defected

by bentnotbroken1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Darker Tones, Deathly Hallows divergent, Drama, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Half Blood Prince compliant, Multi, Psychological Trauma, S&R:CRW, brief scenes of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6867751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentnotbroken1/pseuds/bentnotbroken1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there is one defining moment in a person's life that changes everything. </p><p>Draco Malfoy had wanted to defect long before that fateful night in Malfoy Manor when he'd chosen to save the mudblood girl he'd been raised to despise, and help the Golden Trio escape from his family's clutches. He just hadn't had the opportunity until then to do so.<br/>Hermione Granger didn't care when or why he'd decided to jump ship, she was just grateful that he had, she would probably have one less scar because of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

Sometimes there is one defining moment in a person’s life that changes everything. It can come at the most inopportune moment, in the worst possible way, but they can’t ignore it. Sometimes it comes in the form of a question, “Who am I? What is it I want?” Sometimes is comes in the form of a person offering a sliver of hope, a sign of reassurance when they need it most, and sometimes it comes in the form of a situation, a realization, one that forces them to take a step back and question what it is they are really fighting for. The defining moment for Draco Malfoy came in the form of a promise and a wand.

He was just a boy long past his breaking point, standing in that astronomy tower, facing down one of the greatest wizards of their time. And he’d known, even as he stood there, that it wasn’t what he’d wanted. But was too late, he’d taken one to many steps in the wrong direction and there was no turning back. As he watched Dumbledore’s wand leave his hand he felt the sick realization that this was it. This was the moment he’d prepared himself, _tortured_ himself, all year for. The moment when he’d take that final, devastating step on the path to darkness.

Shaken and uncertain, he’d raised his wand and pointed it directly at his target, but the spell didn’t leave his lips. Instead, all the fear, the shame, the sorrow, spewed out of his mouth as he tried desperately to justify his actions to the other wizard. He’d cried, _shouted_ that he had to do it. He _had_ to kill him. There was no way he would be able to understand, but he had to try to make him. This wasn’t what he wanted. He just had no other choice. He’d shown the curse he carried on his arm, as if that would explain it all, but he knew it wouldn’t. It wasn’t that simple, none of this insanity was. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just get it over with. It should’ve been so easy. His and his family’s lives were on the line, so he shouldn’t have had a problem hissing the Unforgivable to end it all, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d known, deep down, that he’d never be able to carry out his mission from the beginning. Even as the Dark Mark had burned and embedded itself into his skin he’d known it wasn’t what he wanted, and apparently his headmaster had known as well.

He’d looked into Draco’s red-rimmed eyes and gave him an offer of protection and let him see a brief glimmer of a future he could live with. He’d given him a chance, a choice. He could turn this whole thing around if he wanted to. He needn’t go farther than this. But could it really be as easy as that? Could the Order really help him and his mother? Or was this just some sort of ruse to distract him? He’d wanted so badly to believe he could get out of it, that he could get away from the death and destruction that surrounded him. He didn’t _want_ to kill anyone. He didn’t even want to _hurt_ anyone. Not really. Cutting people with words felt so much different than actually cutting them. For the first time in over a year he asked himself, “What is it I want? Is this who I want to be? A murderer? A death eater? A corpse?” He’d stood there, staring at the man that would make or break who he was and found the answer. _He wanted out._

So, despite the ramifications of his failure, he did no more than disarm his headmaster as the other Death Eaters swarmed the school below. He’d lowered his wand and in that moment made his choice. He’d made his decision. Heart racing and palms sweating, he stepped forward, the words of agreement on the tip of his tongue, but of course, it seemed fate was against him. He’d hesitated too long. Long enough that his aunt had time to find her favorite nephew and make sure he’d done as he was told. She’d pranced her way to his side, his god father not too far behind her, and Draco watched helplessly as Snape finished the task he himself had been unable to do. And just like that, the glimpse of a brighter future he’d seen for himself had been ripped away from him and plunged down into the abyss in the form of Dumbledore’s lifeless body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a bit of a darker fic as it deals with phycological trauma associated with Draco's involvement in Death Eater activities. 
> 
> Let it also be noted that while it is ultimately a dramione fic, it will be slow going as they are in the midst of a war.


	2. A Little Longer

JULY 1997

There had apparently been a record breaking heatwave the summer of Draco’s seventeenth year, but he hadn't noticed. On Snape’s orders he’d retreated to Malfoy Manor before death had even cooled his former headmaster’s body. He’d hardly set foot outside of the manor since, at least in the light of day. If he was called to duty it was always in the shadow of night, in the cold dampness that came with the lowland fog. He hadn’t felt the warmth of the noonday sun for months and his body was surely showing the effects. He’d always been a rather pale thing according to his mother, but there was pale, and then there was _pale_. His skin had taken on a ghostly hue and it made the blue tint of his veins stand out on the tops of his hands and along his arms. The Dark Mark, that he kept mostly hidden beneath his dress shirts, looked that much more sinister. The sight of it made his insides squirm and the tingling and burning of the summons filled him with dread. It was starting to do something to him. It was changing him. He felt less and less like himself as the days wore on.

But he didn’t have time for such worries now. Things weren’t going well for any of those in the Dark Lord’s graces. The plan for the Chosen One’s capture was about to be set in motion and he knew if it failed it would mean pain. It would mean death. Even though he wasn’t to participate, he knew he’d most likely be punished alongside the rest of them.

He stared dismally at his reflection in the mirror above his alabaster sink. Maybe his worries were for naught? Maybe they would succeed this time. Maybe it would be over? Maybe tonight would be the start of the new Era his master was so obsessed with. He shuddered. He didn’t want to think about what horrors awaited them if Potter fell. Dangerous thought that. He rid himself of Potter related things and focused instead on the hair that hung limply on his forehead. He ran a hand through the pale locks and sighed. He barely recognized his own face. It had been so long since he’d even bothered to primp and preen that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d taken any pride in his appearance.

 Before his father’s trial probably. It had since seemed unimportant to him. Why bother pretending things were as they’d been before? He may not even live to see tomorrow. In this new life, it didn’t matter how sharply you dressed or how aesthetically pleasing your face was. The only thing that mattered was that you followed orders on command and carried them out as ruthlessly as possible. There was no room for aristocratic pleasantries. There was only darkness and death.

“Draco.” A soft voice called to him from the other side of the door. “Darling, are you all right?”

Time must have gotten away from him if she was already seeking him out. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images of her sneaking through the manor looking behind her back at every turn. She was a woman who shouldn’t have to be frightened to walk through her in her own home. It made him sick.

“Draco?”

“I'm fine, mother.” He replied quickly. “I'll be down in a moment.”

“Be sure that you aren’t late.”

A chill ran up his spine when he thought of the last death eater to arrive late to one of the Dark Lords meetings. It wasn’t pretty. “I won’t be.” He promised, and she seemed satisfied enough to back away from the door.

When her footsteps disappeared completely from earshot he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face to shake the melancholy. It was time to meet with their… _guests_ in the dining hall. He quickly dressed and took a moment to collect himself, calming his racing pulse and regulating his breathing. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not yet. Not until his mother was safe. Not until they were _both_ safe.

He continued his mantra as he made his way down the stairs. With each step, he focused his thoughts.

_Breathe, Draco._

_Breathe._

_In out. In out._

_Steel yourself._

_It will be over soon._

_It will be over soon._

***

The dining hall was dark and filled with tension when he arrived. Almost everyone was seated and he felt his throat tighten. He saw his aunt at the same time she’d spotted him.

“Ah, nephew, come.” Bellatrix said, motioning for him to join her. “Sit.”

He did as he was asked and took a seat between her and his mother. His father was quiet and still on his wife’s right hand side. He nodded vaguely to his son before looking back at the table. It had been unnerving seeing Lucius this way a month before, but it had become a normal site to him lately. Part of him hated his father for being so weak and for getting them all into this mess, but then he felt hypocritical. He wasn’t doing much better than his father after all. He’d just figured out how to hide it somewhat better, though he still had his moments. The memory of Charity Burbage’s death came to mind. He hadn’t been prepared to see someone he'd known die in such an undignified way. He'd fallen to the floor in surprise and he’d yet to live it down. He'd had to put up with Yaxley’s fucking mouth all week. The only one that got him to shut up was the Dark Lord himself.

 He caught his mother’s eyes and nodded. They could do this. They could make it through another meeting, even though he wished he could be anywhere in that moment than there. He’d have rather gone trudging through the Forbidden Forrest at midnight than sit at that table watching Antonin Dolohov leer at his mother and waiting for whatever vile thing they would have to witness before setting off on their respective missions.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only five in the afternoon and he had already wished he’d been quicker to take Dumbledore up on his offer of protection at least one thousand times. Hindsight _was_ truly 20/20. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known how bad this could be, the situation was dire before the confrontation in the astronomy tower, but he had no way of foreseeing this. He had never expected to become a prisoner in his own home, cowering in fear at the feet of a mad man. No, not a man, a _monster_.

The room quieted and he quickly silenced his mind as Voldemort entered. Draco hyper focused his gaze on the flame of a candlestick across the room, making sure to keep them there. He'd allowed his eyes to venture to often in the past and he regretted it every time. Their Lord was speaking, moving about the room at a deliberately slow pace, stopping every once and awhile behind one of their chairs. The occupants of said chair would momentarily freeze and wait until they were either addressed or he moved on. This was one part of his game that Draco detested; The mind games, the way he kept  them close enough to have them unshakably loyal, yet far enough that they were all truly disposable.  Pawns. They were all pawns.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise as the Dark Lord passed behind his family’s chairs. He kept picturing his bedroom. The large gray area rug, the ancient grandfather clock in one corner, the bedposts and nightstands carved from the trunk of a dark cherry tree, the hideous green drapes his mother insisted on hanging on his ninth birthday despite all his protests and the floor to ceiling bookshelf next to the fireplace. Hell, he’d even pictured the specific titles of a few of the books found there. He’d picture anything to chase away his traitorous thoughts. 

He had learned quickly to picture things in the manor to block the Dark Lords Legilimency. To picture a brick wall or the like was a sure fire way to get a Cruciatus curse to the head. It was an indicator that you were hiding things and the Dark Lord didn’t appreciate being lied to. So when he was present, Draco concentrated on practically every fixture of the manor. The trick had worked so far. He just had to keep his body from showing his distress. He felt the cold, dark presence behind him and he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of his legs to keep them from trembling.

Soon he’d be out of here. Soon he wouldn’t have to sit through another interrogation. He wouldn’t have to mentally prepare himself for the multiple Crucio's that would undoubtedly be directed at him on a weekly, if not daily, basis. He wouldn’t have to look into the eyes of a trembling mudblood as a curse left his lips and extinguished the light in them. Soon he wouldn’t stumble upon house elves scrubbing Hogwart’s professors’ blood off of the dining room table or see Nagini's open jaw when he closed his eyes at night. Soon. He kept telling himself. Soon it would be over. He just had to hold on a little longer. A little longer. _A little longer_.

If it all went well, in a month’s time he’d be back on the Hogwarts express and far from his Lords presence. He knew he’d still be dealing with this murderous lot, as the Carrows were to become professors along with Snape as Headmaster, but at least they didn’t make him feel like hyperventilating by just looking his way.

“-s you are all aware, tonight The Order will be moving Harry Potter.” The Dark Lord was saying. “I assume they will have the entirety of the Auror Office at their disposal. They’ll most likely have their strongest on the defense, surrounding the boy. The best spell casters will be on the offensive. Once they know we’re there they will try to distract you.” A few of the older death eaters scoffed but Voldemort stared them down. “You will let them.”

“But my Lord-“ Yaxley protested but was silenced with a growl.

 “Your job is to remove all obstacles while I personally go after him. I wasn’t aware that this was a difficult concept to grasp.” If anyone didn’t like the plan they certainly kept it to themselves. Self preservation kept them silent. “Keep them occupied. I won’t tolerate any more cock ups. I want Potter's lifeless body at my feet _tonight_.”

Draco felt ill as the image of Potter's bloodied body sprang to the forefront of his mind.

“What of the Order?” Bellatrix asked. “Would it serve you to capture some of them?” He could hear the glee in her voice. “I'm sure a few of them would have information that could help our takeover in the Ministry. We could torture it out of them.” She suggested.

The dark wizard gave his aunt a slight smile. She was probably giggling like a first year on the inside. “While I admire your ambition, I have no need for prisoners tonight.” Then he addressed the rest of them. “Curse to kill.”

Draco could almost feel the bloodlust spike throughout the room with the order. He'd never been more happy to be excluded from a mission before. He felt a hand slip into his as his comrades dispersed. He squeezed back and then stood, bidding his father good luck as he left the table.

“Are you sure you'd rather stay here, Draco?”  Bellatrix asked, stopping him and twirling a finger in her unruly hair. “You may not get another chance to rid the world of the filthy mudblood’s that flock around Potter.”

His mind traveled to another unruly haired girl. _Granger_. He swallowed and shook his head. He didn’t want to think of her bloodied body either. “I’ll let you have the honors Aunt Bella. Someone needs to keep an eye on mother. She’s been plagued with fainting spells of late.”

His aunt clicked her tongue and pushed him aside. “Oh, Cissy. You always have been the more delicate one.” She patted the side of his mother’s face fondly. “I’ll make sure to check up on you after the raid.”

“Honestly, Bella, I’m fine. My son exaggerates my condition. You needn’t bother.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do.” She said before turning to Draco. “Make sure she gets some rest.”

“I will.” He assured her and she nodded. His mother started for the door and he moved to follow but the dark haired witch stopped him once more. He gave her a questioning look. “What is it?”

Her normally crazed and slightly aloof face was serious as she answered. “I don’t think I need to tell you to prepare yourself for the possibility of our failure?”

A coldness swept over him. “I’m aware of the consequences.”

“I don’t like to think we will be unable to kill the boy, but he has a way of prevailing against all odds. Quite infuriating.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “He certainly is.” He noticed they were the only ones left. “Shouldn’t you be going? You’ll be late to the party.”

“I’m leaving.” She huffed, shifting her dress so it fit her better. “But don’t forget what I’ve told you. Look for me.” He nodded and she gave him a reassuring smile before disaperating.

He fought off the fear that was slowly creeping up his spine. There would be no hiding from the Dark Lord's rage should Potter escape. What had she said? Prepare himself? There was no _way_ to prepare oneself for that kind of punishment and no way to numb the pain. His head ached just thinking about it, but he’d do as his aunt asked. He’d put his mother to bed and make sure she stayed there. They’d both made sure Narcissa was as far away from the violence as possible. She couldn’t handle it. Especially when it came to Draco. So they’d protected her from the worst of it, though be knew it would be idiotic to think she was ignorant of what went on.

“Draco? What’s wrong?”

He’d caught up to her on the stairs. “Nothing, Mother.”

“I dislike when you lie to me.” She hissed.

He sighed. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to bear with the disappointment a little longer.”

He blatantly ignored her angry huff and helped her to her room. She turned to him before entering. “Will you be alright?” She asked, concern and worry lacing her voice. “What if –“

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It will be fine, mother. Auntie Bella wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

She looked like she was about to protest but he cut her off with a hug. It was unlike the Malfoys to show such affection but lately this was the only thing they had left. “Sleep, mother. I will see you in the morning.”

She held him tighter and whispered, “I love you.”

He successfully stomped down the emotions that were working their way to the surface but he allowed himself to kiss her cheek, tell her he loved her, and bid her goodnight before retreating to his room. Once he was safely behind those thick oak doors he let out a shuttered breath. He'd held it in well but when it came to his mother his feelings were always floating on the surface. His weakness was displayed for everyone to see.  If it wasn’t for his aunt, they might have already been killed off. He hated it. He hated the whole fucking situation, but he had to do this. He had no choice. He’d just have to accept whatever came their way. If they were going to get out of here alive he’d just have to be patient. He’d just have to wait a little longer. A little longer. _A little longer_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely mannamay on tumblr.


	3. Hogwarts Express

**_August 1, 1997_ **

_He'd had worse_ , he thought as the cold water from the shower ran down his body and into the drain, taking the sting from his skin down with it. He'd been lucky. By the time The Dark Lord had gotten to him and his aunt, the anger had waned. Draco had only taken two consecutive curses. Yes. Lucky. He'd had much worse, much crueler things done to him. A few curses weren't enough to break him. Not yet. He looked down at his torso and stared at the angry welts from the other day where they set atop the month's old scars from Potter's curse. His mind may not be that weak yet but, he ran his hand along the scars, his body on the other hand...He didn't believe in the gods of his mother, but his body thanked them for sparing him tonight. Had he participated in the raid he would still be crawling his way back to his bed.

He shivered as he stepped out of the steam and onto the cold tiled floor, grabbing a towel to dry himself. He picked up his wand from the countertop but refrained from looking into the mirror as he passed, knowing all too well what he'd see in it. He whispered a charm to clear his head from the ringing and opened the bottle of dreamless draught that sat on his nightstand. He noted that is was more than halfway empty as he tilted the bottle back and swallowed a mouthful. He'd have to remember to have one of the house elves bring him another tomorrow.

He slung himself across his bed, towel still wrapped around his waist, and laid motionless, waiting for the potion to kick in. He was always anxious for it, wanted it more than he knew he should, but he couldn't help it. It was the only thing that kept the nightmares at bay and allowed him a small fracture of peace. He wasn't ready to give that up quite yet. That small moment of calm before it fully took effect. It was coming now, the warm tendrils snaking their way from his head into his limbs easing the tension out of his muscles as it went. After the warmth came the cool embrace, like silk on his naked skin. His breath came easier, his heart slowed into a rhythmic and soothing tempo and he felt the tension in his muscles leave as he relaxed into the sheets. This was it. What he'd longed for.

The Bliss.

Then the darkness.

* * *

It wasn't until the next day that he'd heard the names of their victims. Alastair Moody a prominent Order member, a wounded Weasley, though he was unsure which one, and a few nameless Aurors. Granger's name hadn't come up and he didn't know why that relieved him.

* * *

**Monday, September 1, 1997**

Draco stared out the window and watched as the landscape blurred as they passed by. His thoughts of the last month plagued him. There was hardly a moment that he didn't think of bloody floors, darkness, and lessons he'd endured. His hand slipped into his pocket and he fingered the small vile he'd kept there. He knew he should be in better spirits. After a summer of literal hell, he was finally free, or at least as free as one could be under such circumstances. There would probably be more vile tasks he'd have to complete; it just wouldn't be the Dark Lord watching it happen. Though the Carrow's weren't much better. They were still highly suspicious of him, and probably always would be. They hadn't liked him _before_ he'd been inaugurated into their little band of psycho's, so he was sure he'd never gain any creditability in their eyes. He'd failed to kill his headmaster after all. How were they to know where his allegiance lay?

Of course, they would attempt to play nice as long as Bellatrix's shadow fell on him. If he walked a rather straight line he'd be somewhat safe from them. He would never let his guard down, but he knew if his aunt found out they were plotting against him she wouldn't hesitate to end them. And it wouldn't be pretty. He'd asked his mother once if something had happened between the three of them to cause so much bad blood He didn't really _care_ but he'd thought they would be the best of friends considering they were obviously all part of the 'we like to torture for the fun of it' club, but they weren't. His mother said that there had been a rumor that Bella had turned down Amycus's advances at some point, though who knew for sure. He just hoped they would have the sense enough to leave him out of their plans of domination.

He sighed and let his head fall against the window. He was trying not to think about what awaited him at the school but it was impossible. The thought of Death Eaters having unlimited access to all the students was something out of a fucking nightmare and it made him sick to his stomach. He'd seen what they were capable of. A sense of helplessness washed over him as images of broken bones, blood-splattered floors, and faces frozen in agony consumed him. He felt his heart skip a beat as his vision blurred. The far away sound of screams, of fists, pounding on the walls and sobs echoing in empty hallways left him shaking. That was over, wasn't it? Surely they wouldn't….no he knew they would. They absolutely would because they were sick fucks.

So much for the relief he thought he'd feel when he left the manor. He didn't have the Dark Lord's red eyes watching his every move and the weight of them had been somewhat lifted, but the more distance that was put between them, the more time he'd had to actually think. He didn't like where his mind wandered. He'd find no relief here. All he felt now was guilt. Guilt that he knew of the horrors that undoubtedly awaited them all and his inability to do anything about it. It didn't ease his mind to know that his mother was still stuck in that house while he was miles and miles away either.

Then there was the little problem that he essentially answered to the Carrows while they were in charge. Perhaps Snape would shine some light on what would be expected of him from here on out. Maybe he wouldn't have to participate...

"It's rather solemn in here isn't it?" Theodore Nott's modulating voice spoke close to his ear, disrupting his thoughts. He was gesturing to the train they all now rode. "From the way you look, one would assume that we were on our way to a funeral." He didn't have any clue how close to truth that statement was. The Hogwarts Express, for the first time in maybe ever, was at half capacity as many students and their families thought it was unsafe for them to return to the school. Their fear was merited and honestly, he couldn't fathom the reason why any parent would allow their child to come in such a precarious time. "And it's not just you. Finnegan didn't even flip me off when I accosted him." He continued, looking at Draco like he expected answers to his unasked questions. He had none, of course, at least not for him.

"Yes," Daphne agreed, sliding into the booth next to Theo. "It's quite …unsettling."

Unsettling didn't even cut it. The train was dark and the tension was thick. The faces of all the students he'd passed on his way there were as grim as his probably was and he was sure that the first years were no doubt shaking in their seats as all the excitement, all the hopes they'd had for Hogwarts, were snuffed out by forces they couldn't understand. Tragic. Even his housemates were on edge. Blaise was unusually quiet and Daphne's eyes kept darting around nervously. Though Vincent and Greg looked as uninterested as they always did. Could they know something? Or were they simply unaware of the atmosphere?

"He's probably just pissed that his precious Chosen One is on the Ministries Most Wanted list." Crabbe snickered from across the compartment. "But don't worry, Nott. I'm sure we'll get to have our fun with him soon enough."

Theo and Blaise shot him a confused look, but Draco's face remained blank as he took in his friend's widening smile. Vincent caught his eye and winked. Well, that was one question answered. Crabbe Sr. had disclosed at least _some_ of what they'd planned for Hogwarts to his son. Brilliant. Now he'd have to keep an eye on him as well as the Carrows.

"I heard Professor Snape is to be our headmaster," Theo said, offhandedly.

"Sweet Merlin," Blaise groaned, "We'll never get to eat if his speeches are as long as his lectures."

Draco tuned them all out as they conversed but he didn't return his attention to the fields outside of the window. Instead, he glanced around, taking in his friends' appearances. Greg and Vincent seemed pretty laid back and Pansy didn't seem to be interested in anything they'd been talking about. Good. Those three probably would be fine under the new regime they were rushing headlong into. He wouldn't have to worry about their mental faculties. And he could already discern that they'd most likely be his enemies by the time this was all said and done. But the others he wasn't quite sure about yet. Blaise was trying to look cool and collected but Draco could see through it. He could tell he was nervous and trying to hide it, and while that ultimately seemed like he'd be neutral he couldn't confirm it.

Theo and Daphne were a different story, though. They both acted like they didn't know what was happening but they most likely suspected. Theo was too keenly observant for the changes to go unnoticed and his father was too involved in their activities for him to not hear at least one thing slip from the elder's mouth. They both seemed incredibly uncomfortable and fidgety, something that Vincent seemed to be picking up on. He'd never thought of Crabbe as an observant person, but it seemed a lot had changed over the summer. Where Draco had slowly become more withdrawn, he'd become more boisterous and cocky. He honestly wouldn't be surprised to see the Dark Mark on his arm, he hadn't been to all the meetings after all. Who knew how many of his fellow classmates had been recruited.

Draco shook away the thought. It really didn't matter. He'd figure it all out in time. He'd just have to pay attention. He felt a bit off, sitting there scrutinizing his friends and his companions that he'd known for years, but he couldn't take any chances. He'd been alone inside his head for so long. He wanted allies, he desperately needed them, but one misstep could mean the difference between life and death. He'd have to play the part of little death eater lap dog until he could actually find proof that anyone else felt the way he did.

"This year will be different, won't it? Something feels wrong." Daphne muttered, more to herself to any of them, but it caught Draco's attention. She turned to Theo. "I want to check on Tori."

"Sure," He replied, standing up and offering her his hand but before she could take it the train violently halted to a stop; and while it had shocked most of the others, it didn't surprise him.

"What the hell?" Blaise asked, leaning up in his seat to look outside of the compartment. When a few masked men in dark robes glided by the window Blaise shrunk back.

Theo, already standing, had his wand out and ready, but Draco shook his head. "Don't worry." He reassured them. "They're not here for us."

"They're after Potter," Vincent added smugly. It was starting to sound like Vincent was trying a little too hard to get Draco to acknowledge his obvious change in rank.

He gave a drawn out sigh. "And they are wasting their time. They won't find him. Potter's too smart for that."

His friend eyed him. "It sounds as if you think he'll outsmart us."

"You'd be a fool to underestimate his ability to thwart us. Maybe If he was alone we may stand a chance, the bastard is reckless and has no sense of self-preservation, but I guarantee he's got Granger and Weasely with him."

"So?"

" _So_ ," He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Granger would never let him just waltz into danger. She's the brains behind their little trio."

The other wizard looked like he was about to make some smart arse comment but there was a commotion in the corridor and they could hear someone yelling. No one spoke or even breathed really until it grew quiet. Obviously, they hadn't found what they were looking for because the train started moving again. Daphne gave Theo a look and they both exited the compartment.

"Greengrass is a little jumpy, wouldn't you say?" Vincent asked him, his eyes cold and gleaming.

The longer he sat there the more uncomfortable he became. Vincent was fishing. He wanted something. He definitely wasn't going to be on Draco's side when all was said and done. He was one of _them_. "She's checking on Astoria. If I had a sibling I'd be looking after them too." He glared at the other boy. "Not everyone knows what the fuck is going on, Vince."

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "I guess you're right. Only some of us have that pleasure."

Greg narrowed his eyes in confusion and Blaise cocked his head to the side, listening intently to the conversation. "What do you mean? Besides the hunt for the chosen one, what is going on? Should we be concerned?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? "If you're a good boy and do what you're told, everything should be fine." He said finally, shooting Vincent another glare. "You'll find out soon enough, anyway."

Blaise looked like he was about to protest and demand more information, but at that moment Theo reentered the room and stopped as he felt the high tension around him. "Really? What could have possibly happened in the five minutes I was gone?" He groaned. "I swear to Merlin-."

"Where'd you leave Daphne?" Pansy asked impatiently.

"She's with Tori. She probably won't be back."

"Fantastic." Pansy pouted. "Now I'm stuck here with you depressing pricks."

Theo looked scandalized. "Panse, I thought we had something special? How can you lump me with the rest of these boring sods?" Draco could tell he was trying to lighten the mood with banter but it seemed it wasn't going to work. Everyone was too worked up or agitated.

"Theo, love. You're the most boring one of the bunch." She replied with a smirk.

He placed a hand on his chest. "Ouch, Pansy. That may have been the meanest thing you've ever said to me."

She rolled her eyes and studied her nails. "I highly doubt it."

"I am so unappreciated around here."

"Just sit down, Nott." Draco interrupted, rubbing his aching temples." You lot are giving me a headache."

Theo grunted but didn't argue as he took a seat next to him. After awhile the quiet conversations started up again but Theo and Draco remained silent, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. When they finally stopped at their destination Draco felt an intense desire to get the hell off of the train. He stood and went to follow the rest of the Slytherin's out butTheo held out an arm and stopped him from immediately leaving. "Nott?"

He held up a finger and waited until they were alone to speak to him. "What is going on here, Draco?" He whispered. "Daphne was right. Something feels really off around here."

Draco stared at him. What could he disclose? He didn't know how to classify Theo yet. Ally? Enemy? Neutral? Could he be trusted? He'd always been more level headed than the rest of them, and he'd been the least prone to bullying in all their years together. Maybe he could just dip a toe in the water. He was good at reading people. If Nott turned out to be another Vincent in the making, he'd just take a step back. "I can't say much."

"I understand that, but," He glanced down at Draco's arm. "I know you have at least some insider knowledge, and you're not exactly jumping for joy here."

"Fine. Fine. You're right." He relented. "It's not good, at least for the faint of heart. The Dark Lord has sent senior Death Eaters with us. They are essentially taking over Hogwarts under his orders."

Theo stilled beside him. "Where does that leave the students?"

He studied the wizard's face. It looked indifferent but he could see the tightness in his jaw and the knuckles of his hands were white. Interesting. "Where the hell do you think?" He asked, gauging his reaction.

He didn't disappoint as he closed his eyes and hissed, "Fuck." Well, it looked like Theo was leaning more towards ally after all. Good.

Draco nodded his head. "Fuck indeed."

* * *

 _A/N This was a transition chapter so not much_ exciment _going on. Plot will pick up next chapter. Let me know what you think._


	4. Crucio

**A/N: Trigger Warning- Cruciatus Curse used on children**

* * *

Draco had no sooner set down his trunk in his room than he was leaving it once more.

"Where are you going?" Theo called after him.

"There's something I need to do." He replied over his shoulder, waving a hand in the air. That something being his speaking with his godfather turned headmaster. Rumours of his being a double agent hadn't slipped past his ears, but in the eyes of their lord, he'd proved himself to be steadfast in the cause. If his mother hadn't disclosed the truth of the unbreakable vow the two of them shared, he wouldn't even be contemplating trusting him. He didn't know how deep his allegiances were, or if he was truly helping the Order, nor did he care. What mattered was that he posed little to no threat to Draco. He may be the only person he could speak candidly too.

When he came to the third floor, he stood before the Gargoyle that watched over the stone staircase leading to the headmaster's office. He knew the password, odd as it was, and spoke the words, "Moja lalia," to the sentient stone figure. The Gargoyle regarded him a moment but moved aside, revealing the staircase.

When he reached the office at the top he didn't bother looking around. He strolled right up to the large desk in the center of the room. The man sitting behind it acknowledged him with little more than his name. "Draco."

"Severus."

If the older man was annoyed by the boy's familiar use of his name he didn't show it. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He asked, still not looking up from the documents he was signing.

"I was wondering after the state of the school, sir." He admitted freely, finding it useless to beat around the bush with him.

He re-wet the quill and set back to writing. "Elaborate, if you will."

Irritation flared inside of him, but he understood why his godfather must tread carefully. Draco may know he could trust him, but he didn't know if he could trust Draco. "The Carrows." Was all he said. It was all that needed to be said.

Snape set the quill down and lifted his head, meeting the younger wizard's eyes. "What about them?"

"You know how they are." He started, suddenly a bit nervous. "I'm concerned about the students."

Silence.

He shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for a response.

"Draco," He paused. "It is of the utmost importance that you do not cross them."

"I wasn't planning on getting into a pissing match with them." He scowled. "I know how sadistic they are. Which is why I came here in the first place." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's one thing to submit me or others like me to their psychotic proclivities, it's a whole other thing letting them get their hands on first or second years. And don't try to deny it, Severus. You know they'll find their innocence alluring." He shivered as a ribbon of memory passed through his mind. He pushed it away.

"I will not pretend to be oblivious to their inclinations, but there is a thin line I must walk."

"You're the headmaster."

"Yes, I am aware." He frowned. "And yet, I am still under the scrutiny of most of my comrades. If I were to put up a fuss every time Alecto or Amycus decide to take it upon themselves to give students extra _lessons_ I would be seen as someone causing unnecessary discourse and I'd be demoted in rank. Would you rather one of them sit in my place?"

"Of course not!" He exclaimed, horrified.

Snape nodded. "Then you'll understand me when I say we must choose our battles wisely."

That was the thing. He _did_ understand. He understood completely, and that was the worst part of all. "What am I to do?"

"In regards to what exactly?"

"I won't…" He closed his eyes momentarily and pressed on. "It's not that I'm incapable of fulfilling my duties, I will do whatever is asked of me, but surely I won't be called upon while I'm here."

An almost sad look crossed the man's face. "I will not ask anything of you, but I cannot speak for the Dark Lord or the Carrows. And let me be clear, you would do well to do as they say. Do not make enemies of them."

"I think it's already too late for that." He muttered.

The two of them were quiet for a few minutes, Draco hanging his head in thought and Snape returning to his documents. "Is that all you needed?"

Draco snapped his head up and nodded. "That's all. I'll leave you to your work, Headmaster."

He had almost reached the door when a sentence stopped him. "Be vigilant, Draco, and trust no one."

Again he nodded and disappeared down the stony steps.

* * *

**Tuesday, September 23, 1997**

Surreal.

That would be how he'd describe the first few weeks of school life under the new headmaster. Surreal and uncomfortable. He noticed that for the most part, the Slytherin house seemed to be functioning normally, if not a little better than before. The rest of the houses, in contrast, weren't in great shape. Fear was quite tangible in the hallways and those bold enough to dissuade bullying or stand up to what they saw as injustices were quickly and harshly dealt with. It was reminiscent of fifth year, truth be told, but there was much more at stake now. There was no Dumbledore for Dumbledore's Army and many of the witches and wizards that had taken part in the DA or would have continued to hold their ground were either hiding out, no longer students, or dead.

Even the teachers were subdued, afraid that their interference would only hurt the students more or have them replaced with another Death Eater. It was enough to have the Carrow's as teachers and Snape as their headmaster, they didn't need to add more to the mix. He was sure they were wary of him as well. After all, he'd tried to kill Dumbledore. In their eyes, he was just as evil as the rest of them, and maybe he was. He'd done his fair share of deplorable things in order to live another day. He was just another murderer, a monster. He was one of _them._

"You seem pretty tense these days, Draco."

The blond turned around at the sound of his name. Vincent was giving him an odd look. "A bit, perhaps." He admitted slowly. Flat out denial would only draw more suspicion on himself. "I'm antsy, is all. I haven't been this idle in awhile. I'm used to having things to do."

"Right." He replied thoughtfully. "You were one of the lucky ducks that actually got to go on missions."

Lucky wasn't the word Draco would have used. "Yes, so you see, twiddling my thumbs and writing essays feels a bit lackluster."

The boy smiled then. "Ah, don't worry too much mate. There'll be plenty of excitement for you soon."

He narrowed his eyes in momentary confusion, but then it dawned on him. Vincent had been sucking up to Alecto all week. "You know what the Carrow's have planned then?"

Vincent grinned. "Let's just say we'll be having ourselves a bit of fun."

He didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

* * *

**Wednesday, September 24, 1997**

He knew something was different the moment he set foot into the DADA classroom. There was a heaviness in the air and the crazy twins were nowhere in sight. Everyone was picking up on the odd atmosphere so it was strangely quiet when he wandered over to his seat next to Theo. The other wizard looked just as worried as he felt. "What do you think is going on?"

"I'm not sure, but it probably isn't good."

When the double doors swung violently open a few minutes later he knew his assumptions had been correct. Alecto walked into the room followed by a slew of what looked to be first years. Amycus brought up the rear and slammed the door shut behind him. The kids between them looked frightened, and Draco knew they had every right to be.

"Today we have something special to add to the curriculum." The older wizard said with a small smile. "We'll have to remember to thank Professor Flitwick for _allowing_ us to borrow his class."

Draco highly doubted the man had gladly stepped aside and allowed them to take the kids out from under his protection. He was probably under a curse, locked in his closet, or knocked out cold.

He let his eyes sweep the room quickly and saw that Blaise was staring at the floor and Daphne had gone pale. He didn't bother looking at the other house members, he knew what they'd all be thinking and feeling. He was honestly surprised one of the Gryffindor's hadn't started yelling yet. Though they weren't given much time to protest as they were quickly herded into two lines. One line consisting of first years, and the other consisting of sixth and seventh years. A mix of confusion and hesitation dominated all of their faces. It seemed no one knew what was going on. No one was aware just hat kind of lessons they'd be learning that day. He wished he didn't know.

"We are sure most of you are aware of what a Cruciatus Curse is, but we're equally as sure that most of you have never performed such a curse." Amycus continued, smiling at the horrified murmurs coming from the students. "Luckily you now have teachers such as ourselves to expand your knowledge."

"No. No way." One of the older student's, Longbottom it sounded like, hissed as the realization hit.

_Yes, you're spot on, Longbottom. They want us to do exactly what you think they do._

"Alright, lesson one! Cruciatus curse! Also known as the torture curse." Amycus said, moving to stand behind the mostly still oblivious first years. "Unforgivables, as you know, are different than normal spells in more ways than one. Rule one when casting a cruciatus curse is that you have to _mean_ it. With normal spells you say the words, flick the wrist and _voila_ , spell cast. Unforgivables don't work that way. You have to feel it. You have to think to yourself, "I want to inflict pain" or "I hate this person" or "they deserve this" and then cast the spell. Nothing will happen if you aren't serious about it." He placed a hand on a Hufflepuff boys shoulder. "Now, I bet some of you have been wondering what the first years are doing here."

 _Shit_. That was what he'd been afraid of. He could see a few of his fellow seventh years shift uncomfortably, some even glaring openingly at their teachers, and he knew the lesson wouldn't end well.

"To get the best results, we needed test subjects."

"And you know what they say." The witch cooed from the corner.

"What do they say, dear sister?" He asked coyly.

A grin worthy of a devil took over her face. "Practice makes perfect."

 _Fuck_.

Her gaze shifted from the students to rest on him.

_Double fuck._

"Care to show them how it's done, Draco?" Alecto asked, smiling in an even more disturbing way that showed all of her sharp teeth.

"Of course," he replied, feigning disinterest as he went to stand in front of the trembling first year at the start of the line. A Ravenclaw girl.

 _Salazar_ , he thought as he watched the tears fall onto her cheeks, _Strike me with lightning._ He didn't want to do this. It was terrible, disgusting, and he wanted no part of it. But if he refused, his cover might as well be blown. So, swallowing his revulsion, he stepped forward, eyes closed and wand raised. When he opened them again it wasn't a little girl that stared fearfully up at him. It was Amycus. It was Dolohov. It was Rabastan. It was a fucking death eater that deserved it. It wasn't a little girl. "Crucio."

He blocked out the high pitched scream and the frozen expression of pain on her face as she crumpled to the ground, unable to resist the curse enough to remain standing. He blocked out the sobs and the simultaneous intakes of breath from all the students in the room, and the feeling of so many pairs of eyes on him.

What he couldn't block out was the loud shriek of protest and the feel of a fist as it connected to his nose. "How dare you, you fucking bastard!" He blinked and took a step back. Long red hair. Loudmouth. Suicidal tendencies. Must be Ginny Weasley.

Blood spurted from his nose and he quickly brought his wand up to it. "Episky." The healing hurt worse than the break and he flinched as it righted itself. He glanced over at the so-called professors but they were looking on in amusement.

"I could fucking kill you right now, Malfoy!" Her voice shook but he knew it wasn't from fear, it was from rage. He stared at her and the look in her eyes told him she'd do it. There was no high moral obligation to her.

"As entertaining as that might be," He said steadily. "You're already holding up the class."

She growled and stepped forward, ignoring the threats of violence coming from his housemates, and continued her assault, shooting a hex at his chest, but missing by a millimeter. "Class?" Another hex flew at him and he dodged that one as well. "You call this a class?! What the hell is wrong with the lot of you?" She screamed, shoving him backward with her hands that time. "What kind of monsters use Cruciatus curse's on children?!"

He didn't let his eyes trail downward. If he looked now he wouldn't see the death eater, he'd see the girl on the ground behind the Weaslette, breathing hard as she recovered from the curse. If he looked now he'd break. So he kept his gaze firmly on the girl in front of him. "The kind of monsters that will do unspeakable things to you. Things that will make you beg for death before they're through." He told her, leaning closer and shoving his wand under her chin. "So you'd do well to get back in line before the Carrow's decide to make you their new plaything."

"Fuck you, Malfoy!"

Before she could get another hit or hex in, he stupefied her and bound her hands and ankles with a spell. He may not like the witch but he didn't want to see her in Amycus's hands. If she had kept fighting him they would have eventually intervened and punished her thoroughly. He dragged her to the back of the room and set her against the wall. "Take a time out, Weasley." He said placing a silencing spell on her, "I'll come back for you later."

* * *

The class continued in much of the same manner. One by one they stood in front of the younger children and subjected them to the horrific pain that came with being crucio'd. Longbottom, of course, refused and was promptly taken to one of their offices to face punishment. The Irishman and a few others followed suit. It seemed only those who were fearful of reprimand or didn't care about hurting anyone tried to follow through with it.

Daphne hadn't been able to cast the curse. Her heart wasn't in it, and he could hardly blame her. She took a curse herself for it, as did all the others before her who failed. It was Theo's turn when he finally noticed how quiet the room had gotten. After the initial protests had ended with not so much as a pause in the curriculum, everyone had seemed to come to terms with their fate.

As Theo passed by him, Draco could almost see the anger radiating off of his body. His face held the same almost blank expression it had on the train that first day but Draco could see through it. He walked to the front defiantly, a coldness in his eyes that could be misinterpreted as delighted participation, but he was anything but delighted as he stood there, wand raised. When the curse was spoken and the boy facing him fell in a fit of agony, Theo just pocketed his wand and turned away, teeth grinding and hands fisted at his sides. The blond suspected that his dorm mate had used the same tactic he had. Intentional displacement , projecting his feelings of anger toward the Carrow's and carrying it over to perform the curse onto the intended target.

"Finally." A voice muttered near him. He turned to see Vincent saunter over to the next one in line. He was a Gryffindor by the looks of his robes and he wasn't crying or cowering in the face of the unforgivable curse like many of the others had, though Draco could still see the fear in his eyes. Despite that fear, the boy stood still, tall, and somewhat proud. He reminded Draco of the blasted Weasel.

The larger wizard sized him up before sneering, "Hope you aren't too fond of your trousers. They'll be stained with your piss by the time I'm through with you." The boy just clenched his hands into fists and braced himself. He wasn't prepared for what hit him. "Crucio!" Vincent screamed, watching the curse hit his victim and forcing him to the ground. His fingers pulled at his hair and the room almost shook with cries that came from his mouth. So far they'd stopped at one. Once was enough to learn. Once was enough to get the point across. Once was almost too much for the fragile kids that had been subjected to it.

But Vincent had no intentions of stopping at one. "Crucio!" He yelled again, smiling madly as the first year continued to writhe on the floor screaming incoherently. It was bad enough that he had to stand there watching his friend gleefully torture an eleven-year-old boy, but the words he heard next made his blood run cold. He hadn't known that Vincent was aware of that spell, or that he had the sadistic personality to use it. "Contero copiosem!" He shouted, and Alecto clapped her hands as a jet of orange light enclosed the boy's right leg. The rest of the room watched in horror as the bones inside were completely crushed, making the leg concave. The boy's bloodcurdling screams cut off abruptly as he passed out either from the pain or from the sight of his mangled leg.

"Well done!" The witch said, congratulating Vincent with a nod of approval. "An exemplary demonstration!" Crabbe looked pleased with himself as he returned to his place beside Greg.

Around him, Draco could hear students retching on the floor while a few others cried. A couple of sixth year Gryffindors looked like they were about to start a revolt, Blaise was staring at Vincent in shock, Theo made a disgruntled noise behind him, and Daphne had turned around, shielding herself from the scene in front of them.

No one had moved to help the boy, yet, so Draco walked slowly and calmly to his side. He didn't want to appear too desperate to help but if he didn't act the boy could be in serious danger. He knelt down and checked his pulse. Still strong. Good. Amycus was watching him now but he continued checking the boy's vitals, ignoring the eyes on the side of his face.

Suddenly a shadow fell over him. He glanced up to see Theo hovering over the boy. The wizard knelt down and lowered his voice, "This is insanity." He grunted, helping Draco lift the boy from the floor.

He agreed of course, but he frowned at the brunette. "Quiet. If they hear that you disapprove, it will be _your_ blood on the floor and _your_ bones crushed to dust next time."

Anger crossed his features as they headed towards the infirmary. "Maybe I don't care anymore." He hissed. "This whole thing is wrong and you bloody know it. You think I don't see how much you hate yourself right now? You may have that fucking mark on your arm but that doesn't make you one of them."

Draco's steps faltered and he stopped short, breath caught in his chest.

Theo stopped as well and reiterated, "You're _not one of them,_ Draco."

He remained silent and they continued their journey, both unaware of the impact those few words would truly have on him.

* * *

**Friday, September 25, 1997**

" _I don't know nothing about no Harry Potter! I swear!" The man exclaimed, twisting against the invisible ropes that held him. "I sell knock off potions, that's all. If I sold any of em to the Order it was just me doing my job! Can't expect me to know every customer that comes through my door!"_

_Draco watched the exchange silently, his eyes flitting from the man in front of them to the witch he'd knocked out a moment ago. She was slumped over a foot away. He didn't think the man was lying about not seeing them, but that didn't seem to matter to his team leader of the night._

" _Ah, but you see, we do," Dolohov said with a tap of his wand to the man's nose. "Our Lord is very interested in all the customers that pass through this part of town. All the vendors were told to be on the lookout. So, again, tell me you were unaware of who he's looking for."_

_Fear fluttered across vendor's face. "I ain't lying. I didn't see Harry Potter and I don't know what the rest of em look like."_

_For a moment it looked as if Antonin was contemplating letting him go, but then the moment was gone. "Pity then," He sighed, twirling his wand between his fingers. "That your neighbors told us otherwise." He jutted his chin at Draco, indicating that it was time to dispatch the useless wizard._

_The man had only enough time to feel the terror before Draco was in front of him, "Avada Kadavra." The spell set the alleyway aglow with an eerie green light and the man, no longer held by the binding curse, dropped lifeless at his feet._

Draco sat up quickly, sweating and shaking slightly as the remnants of the dream faded. Not his worst, by any means, but still bad enough to leave a foul taste in his mouth. He didn't even bother wondering what had brought it on, the events of the day before were still fresh in his mind He knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon, so he rose from the bed, moving quietly through the room as to not disturb the others. He just needed to be alone, and he knew just the place.

As he made his way to the seventh floor he couldn't help going back to his dream. It was an accurate memory, not one of the many that plagued him. There had been no distorted bloody mess of screams and faceless beings stretching their fingers around his throat. It had been a simple one.

It hadn't been the first time he'd killed someone, and he knew it wouldn't be the last, but the guilt hit him all the same. It always left him feeling slimy, dirty, and pathetic. That night he'd glanced over expectantly at his two fellow death eaters, awaiting his next instructions.

" _Alright, Malfoy. Let's get this one back to the manor to interrogate them."_

_He'd nodded vaguely and pointed his wand at the unconscious witch saying, "Wingardium Leviosa," before disapperating directly into his family's dungeon. He knew the others would take a few more moments to join him since he was one of the few who could pass through the blood wards unaided, so he took those few precious seconds to collect himself. Killing came easily to him now, but the interrogations, or the fluffier word for torture, were things he still had to prepare himself for._

_When they finally stood next to him once more he released the prisoner and stepped back. He didn't usually participate unless called upon, which suited him just fine. Witnessing the senseless bloodshed was enough to fuel his nightmares just as well without the added feeling of it caked under his fingernails. And while the cruciatus curse was their go-to tactic, it didn't always work. They inevitably had to get a bit hands-on with more than a couple of prisoners, due to their unwillingness to speak or the fancy of the death eater interrogating them._

_When MacNair leaned down to inspect the girl on the floor Draco knew that night was going to be more hands on._

_Wonderful._

_"Rennervate!" The girl screamed as the burly wizard pulled her head back by her hair, his wand searing a line of skin off of her face. Draco had to concentrate to school his features as the smell hit his nose._

_He'd lost track of everything after that as he kept his focus solely on standing as still as possible and not making a sound. Though, who would hear him over the screeching witch? He wanted to cast a silencing charm but they never did. They relished in the pain they caused and loved hearing it._

_By the time the screaming stopped, there was nothing left of the girl. Her mind had gone first, swept away by too many Crucio's in a row, then her body had followed, broken and bloodied further in either anger or sport. He could hardly tell that she'd been human at all._

_And all this, for what?_

_Having no lead on Potter? Lying about stolen goods? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time? If he didn't loathe his superior's before, he certainly did now._

_He remembered that he'd let his mind go blank at some point, focusing on nothing but the sound of his heart racing, the breath leaving his lungs, and the pain of the scratch he'd received from the captured women earlier in the night. By the time it was over he was a sweaty, nervous mess, though he hid it well._

_Dolohov clapped him on the back and told him he was in charge of disposing of the body._

_The body._

_Of course, he'd known the prisoner's death was imminent, but it still took an effort not to heave the contents of his stomach onto the floor the moment his eyes fell on the disfigured flesh at MacNair's feet._

_MacNair wiped his bloody hands on his breeches before taking one last look at his handiwork. "Tch. Sloppy." He scowled, stepping over the corpse. Draco watched the two of them go and as soon as he was alone he'd vomited._

Muffled voices brought him out of his memories and he pressed himself up against the stone wall, wand in hand. It was well past midnight so most students would be sleeping, or were supposed to be sleeping. He peered down the hallway as the voices grew closer. He recognized them. He'd heard them so much lately there was no way he'd mistake them for any other, and there was also no mistaking the reasons for them being on the seventh floor.

He stepped out from the shadows and watched their faces drain of color when they spotted him.

Lovegood and Longbottom.

It seemed that Hogwarts still had a few noble do-gooders left. Perhaps the DA wasn't as dead as it's namesake after all. "Isn't it a bit past your bedtime?" He asked clearly, not wanting to be seen as hostile.

The boy glared at him. "Didn't your mum ever tell you it's rude to play with your food?" He asked. "If you're going to punish us, get on with it, Malfoy. I don't have all night."

Draco was struck silent for a second at his words. He'd never known Longbottom to be much of a fighter. He must have grown a backbone in the Chosen One's absence. But after he gathered himself, he sighed and lowered his wand. "I'm not going to punish you, _Longbottom_ , but if you linger around here much longer the next person might."

The girl gave him a curious look as she stood silently behind her comrade while he spoke. "Not as bloodthirsty as your death eater mates, then?"

His fingers tightened around his wand. "I can hex you if you want?" He replied coldly. "Though, I wouldn't suggest it. I know some pretty nasty ones."

"Come on, Neville." The blonde requested quietly, pulling on his arm. "He doesn't want to hurt us. Don't give him a reason to want to."

The two wizards continued their staring match for a few more moments until the taller boy relented and followed the girl back down the hall from which they came.

Draco looked at the wall where the door to the Room of Requirement would be and sighed, giving up on his previous goal of finding solace in its familiar and secluded setting. He'd rather not risk a confrontation with any ballsy Gryffindor's tonight. So with that thought he trudged back through the castle, wandering aimlessly until morning.


	5. Losing Sleep

_ Wednesday, October 1, 1997 _

“Where is it?” Draco muttered to himself as he rifled blindly through his trunk. His hair stuck to the nape of his neck where he’d woken up sweating and his chest felt too tight, his mind too loose. He fought the urge to run his fingers along his throat where the phantom hands had been just moments before. He needed to calm down, he knew he did, it was just a dream, but the walls were closing in and eyes were everywhere and he just needed some relief from the anxiety that was eating him alive. “Where the _ fuck  _ is it?” Had he already used it all? He knew he was running low, but he hadn’t thought he’d already run out. Surely he hadn’t. It had to be somewhere. It had to. He cursed once more when his thumb caught on something sharp. He should have just used his bloody wand, but he didn’t want to alert his dorm mates to his middle of the night breakdown.  

“Draco?” A confused voice called from behind him. “What are you doing?”

The blond twisted around slowly and looked up. “Nothing that concerns you, Nott.” He spat, trying to sound intimidating but failing miserably as his voice shook uncontrollably.  

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, so you can go the fuck back to sleep.” He replied and went back to searching for the vial. He didn’t have the capacity to focus on this conversation. He just needed to find it. He needed...

“Draco.” The brunette said, his voice concerned and commanding this time. “What are you looking for?”

“What does it matter to you?” He was frantically looking now, pulling clothes, books, and trinkets out and tossing them on the floor, not caring about the noise he was now making. “It’s just something I need.”

It was quiet for a few moments, the only sounds were Draco’s heavy breaths and occasional thunk of something being knocked around, before Theo stepped towards him and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. “What. Are. You. Looking. For?” He demanded, but Draco remained tight lipped and unmovable. “It’s a draught,” the wizard suddenly stated as if he already knew it as fact, and he probably did. If anyone were to have figured it out, it would have been Theo. He was observant. He already knew Draco wasn't thrilled to be a Death Eater, it wouldn't have taken much more for him to have picked up the signs; the nightmares, the tremors, the timing, and the way he would be dead to the world for at least five hours. “It is, isn’t it?”

Draco didn’t reply to that and was prepared to ignore the other wizard’s presence entirely, why make a statement if he already knew, but the trunk slammed shut and light from the end of a wand lit up his side of the room. He tried forcing the latch open but it wouldn’t budge. “What the hell, Theo!?” He yelled, standing and spinning around, clenching his hands into fists. “Open my fucking tr-” He trailed off when he saw the horrified look on his face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He could actually hear the other boy swallow before he replied softly, “Your back..” His eyes trailed down his torso and Draco suddenly felt like he was some sort of specimen. “And are those scars? What-”

He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was shirtless and that no one there had seen him without one. No one had seen the scars. There were only a few but he knew they stood out on his skin. He rubbed the back of his neck, all the anger mixing around with uncertainty and embarrassment in his gut. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not that bad?” He repeated in a flat tone. “Draco, we’re wizards. Nobody gets scars like that unless magic is involved. So what the hell happened to you? Who was it? How-”

He shuddered as another voice joined their conversation.

_ “How are you to respect and implement these interrogation techniques if you’ve never been on the receiving side of them?” Mulciber asked, scratching at his three days old scruff on his chin and circling him.  “It truly makes you appreciate the experience.” Draco had had no time for the words to sink in before the older wizard raised his wand and pointed it at him. “Excoriosa.” A sharp, searing pain cut across his back and he lost his breath from it. _

_ “You really have to watch your annunciations though. Ex-cor-ee-oh-sa.” He said slowly, tapping Draco’s back with his wand with every syllable. “Did you get all of that?” He asked with a dark chuckle. “I’ll show you once more to make sure.” _

_ When the curse hit him this time he’d been prepared but he still bit his tongue in the process. He couldn’t see his wounds but by the way the cool night air stung and caressed him, and the feeling of seeping blood and hanging flesh he imagined he’d bee flayed. Not on a large scale, but it still bloody hurt. _

_ “Not bad, Malfoy.” His superior hummed in satisfaction. “You didn’t even cry. More than I can say for-” _

He shoved the memory away quickly before he started imagining the taste of copper in his mouth, before remembering the way the torn skin stitched itself back together unevenly, and the way his hands shook when he’d used the same- No. Not going there. Not right now. Not tonight. “I’m not...It’s fine.  _ I’m _ fine. I don’t want to talk about it. Just let it go”  _ Please. Please let it go. _

“Draco…”

Theo’s voice was fading out. He could see his lips moving but the sound was muted. His heart raced and he sucked in a breath, the desperation returning in full force. He could hear Mulciber’s ghostly whispers. He could smell the blood on his skin,  _ feel _ the cold bite of the curse. He dropped to his knees, unable to remain standing, and pressed his hands to his ears. “Shut up,” he cried, wishing the man’s voice away. “Leave me alone.”

“Leave you- Are you alright? Breathe, mate.” Hands gripped his shoulders.

“Don't touch me!” He screamed, throwing himself backwards away from the hands and landing on his arse. He couldn’t do this. He couldnt. He needed out. “No. No.” His voice cracked and his breathing became more labored.

Why was this happening? It wasn't like he asked for it. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to  _ kill _ anymore. He wanted to...he needed...he needed…to...

“Breathe!” The voice from before bellowed, shocking him into doing so. He took a couple of deep breaths and started counting. He got to thirty-five before he was able to raise his head. His chest still hurt and his breathing was still a bit ragged, but he could at least think clearly. Well,  _ clearer _ . There was still an overwhelming feeling of need, but he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked to his friend. Maybe after that he would take pity on him and let him have it. And yeah, maybe tomorrow he’d be ashamed of allowing someone to pity him, but right now he’d do just about anything to get his hands on that vial.

Theo stared, gobsmacked. “Are you alright? Do you need-”

“I  _ need _ ,” Draco pulled at his hair in frustration,“You to open my damn trunk so I can get my-”

“It wouldn’t matter. It’s not in there.”

His heart slammed to a stop. “What do you mean?” How would he know where it wasn’t there?

Theo seemed to struggle with himself a moment before turning and pulling out his own trunk and unlatching it. “It’s not in  _ your _ trunk because I took it yesterday and put it in  _ mine _ .”

Fury clouded his thoughts. How dare he go through his thing?  _ Take _ his things? Who did he think he was? “You had no right! You..you..arsehole. Give it back.” He seethed, reaching out his hand. “Give it back  _ right now _ .”

Neither moved.

“Theo!”

“Fine,” he relented, and second later he was holding it between his finger and thumb. “But I’m doing this against my better judgement.” He said, dropping the vial into his open palm. “That potion is dangerous.“ I know what I’m doing.” He replied quickly, untwisting the cap. “If I don’t some peace soon I’m going to lose what’s left of my mind.”

“Isn’t there a better way to deal with...what I’m assuming are nightmares and panic attacks? You’re already showing signs of dependence.”

Draco regarded his friend for a moment before raising the vile to his lips and swallowing some of it down. He wanted to end this conversation quickly. “I am well aware, but you bloody saw me. I’m still- I can’t afford for that to happen again. Sure, it was you who saw so nothing happened, but what if it had been Vincent? Greg? One of the Carrow’s?” He asked quietly, already feeling the adrenaline wane.“I have to take it when I need it. I  _ can't _ sleep, but I need to. If I don’t sleep, I get sloppy. If I get sloppy, bad things happen.”

He moved towards his bed but Theo held out his arm, blocking him from returning to bed. “Be honest with me, mate. I know a lot of the students are in danger here, but honestly until five minutes I didn’t think….are  _ you _ in danger here?”

He stared down at the brand on his arm. “I’ve been in danger the moment the Dark Lord came back from the dead.” He replied sadly. “In one way or another. And you said so yourself, Theo. I’m not really one of them. My...my heart’s not in it. It just seems they’re finally catching on.” A sigh escaped his mouth and the calming effect of the draught washed over him. It wouldn’t be long. He stumbled forward and Theo caught him by the arm. “I...know you think you know what’s happening,but...there’s a lot you don’t know. A lot you’ll never know….or understand….but….I can’t…maybe someday..but....I can’t right now….” He trailed off as he crashed down onto his bed. He wanted to tell the other boy not to take it personal. He wanted to tell him that he should just forget this night even happened. He wanted to say a lot of things, but the darkness was closing in again only this time it was in a comforting embrace. The last thing he saw was Theo’s brow furrowed with worry as he covered him with a blanket.

 

**___________________________________________________________________________**

 

When he woke up the next morning it was to a foggy head and a pressure behind his eyes. It would take awhile to wear off but at least he got some sleep. It would be a better day than yesterday anyway. Or it would have been if events from the night before hadn’t rushed to the front of his mind. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. He’d been an utter mess. He was unable to even calm himself down for five minutes to rationally look for the potion.  He’d been weak, tumbling into a memory and sending himself into a blind panic. He’d been an idiot. “Fuck.”  

He turned his head and risked looking at his friend.  “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about what happened.” Theo said as he gathered his things and glared at him. 

“You really need to leave it alone.” He huffed, yanking the blankets off himself and sitting up, moving so his feet set firmly on the floor. “ I’m telling you, you’d be way over your head. Besides it’s some rather nasty stuff.” Theo glanced around and cast a muffling charm. Draco raised a brow. “Really, Theo? A muffling charm? About to commit verbal treason?”

“Shut up. I’m not taking any chances of anyone hearing our conversation.”

“I wasn’t aware we were still having one” He feigned a yawn.

“I’m not an idiot, Draco.” He sighed, irritation clearly written across his face.

The blond rolled his eyes. “That’s still up for debate.”

Lips set in a thin line the other boy glared at him. “Stop deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting.” That was a lie. “I’m just really tired.” That was actually the truth.

“That may be true, but we’re going to deal with this.”

“With what? The episode last night? The potion? I told you, I’m well aware of my habit. I’ve already taken the first step even. Step one: Realizing you have a problem, and all that shite.”

“I realize you’re taking it for a good reason. I can’t….I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but perhaps you should figure out some other way, I mean the long term effects are numerous.”

“I’m not exactly worried about the long term effects.” He laughed.

“Why not?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He asked in disbelief. How could he not get it. “I’m a fucking Death Eater. I’m not expecting to make it to see my eighteenth birthday, let alone long enough to see the lasting effects of prolonged use.”

“That’s really morbid.” Theo muttered, folding his arms across his chest. “But a real possibility give the state of things.”

“Oh, you’ve finally realized we’re a the beginning of a war? Golden star, Nott.”

“I think I liked you better blacked out and drooling.” he quipped.

“You’re not the only one, I’m sure.”

“Can we stop this? Please. I’m actually trying to talk to you. I’m trying to, I don’t know, help you? How can I do that if you’re fighting me the whole way?”

“I don’t need your help. You don’t know how bad it is out there right now, Theo. You haven’t seen anything.”

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know everything, because I don’t. But I do know what the Death Eaters have been up too, at least in  _ here _ . And I’ve had a front row seat to some of it, participated even. Or have you forgotten what we’ve been learning the last week in the Carrow’s class? Those kids? Those curses? My hands aren’t any cleaner than yours.”

“When you’ve murdered someone in cold blood then you can come and talk to me.” He scoffed, not realizing his mistake until it was too late.

Theo’s mouth was agape and he narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t…” Draco’s teeth grinded together and he cast his eyes to the floor. It was all that needed to be said, or not said in this case. “You  _ did _ .” Theo’s voice was heavy with emotion. “I’m so-”

“Don’t fucking apologize to me. I don’t deserve one.”

Awkward silence fell before Theo cleared his throat. “So, the draught…”

“ _ Helps me sleep. _ ” He finished, vexed by his friends obsession with it. “And I’m done talking about it. I’ll take it until I’m not longer worried about going into some fit in front of fucking Carrow because I can’t discern dreams from reality. And I really don’t know what you thought was going to happen when you brought all this up, but we’re not about to start braiding each others hair and sharing our deepest darkest secrets.”

He was met with a rather put off scowl. “Of course I didn’t think that. I just thought...I don’t know what I thought. It’s just, I worry about you, alright. You look….you look sick. I just..I wanted to help. I didn’t know how to go about it but then I saw you drink that one night and everything kind of fell into place. You’ve been through some kind of hell this summer and obviously I’ve been living in blissful ignorance of it.”

“Hah, I think this is the one instance where I’d want to be blissfully ignorant.” He sniggered and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t begrudge you for it.”

“Are you seriously laughing right now?”

“Yes. Because this whole bloody conversation is ridiculous. I told you that you need to leave it. I said I didn’t want you to get involved in this and I meant it. Walk away. I won’t let you get involved.”

“You don’t get to make those kind of decisions for me.” He replied angrily. “After what I saw last night...and your behavior? Your scars? You need an ally in this place. I can’t just walk away from that, Draco. Don’t ask me to.”

His thoughts on the train came rushing back to him. The first time he thought this boy could possibly become his ally. But he couldn’t ask him to jump into the fray. Draco didn’t have a plan yet. He didn’t have the resources to get out. He didn’t want to drag his friend into death’s waiting arms if he failed. “You say that as if you could actually do something. But you _can’t_ _do_ anything. Merlin, _I_ can’t do anything. I’m caught up in a proverbial Imperius, following orders and soaking my hands in blood.”He ran a hand down his face before dropping his head. “I’m marked, Theo.” He said, quietly this time. “It doesn’t really matter what I want, I can’t openly go against him. I can’t just up and walk away. I’m _bound_ to him.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I’m not.”

Draco’s head snapped up and he looked sharply at the wizard in front of him. “No. Don’t even think about it.”

But he was no longer listening. He was already moving about the room, muttering to himself as he did so. “I’ve given them no reason to think I’m anything less than a rule follower. I can probably….well...no...and you can't..,we can’t get you out, but we can do something... Hogwarts is falling apart and I don’t know how long I can stomach torturing first year’s. Daphne still hasn’t been able to cast a curse, how long until they start in on her? There  _ has _ to be something we can do.”

“Unless you want to paint a target on your back, you’ll still walk the line and keep your head down.”

“How can you say that?” he protested.

Draco shook his head. “It’s not that I’m happy about strutting about the castle punishing people. But it’s about survival at this point. We need to  _ survive _ first. And you you’re not the only one trying to find a way out.”

“Who else would be trying?”

“Who do you think?” When the boy didn’t answer he huffed, “The remnants of  _ Dumbledore’s Army. _ Do you honestly believe that Ginny Weasley is going to stand back and let the Carrow’s abuse the students without putting up a fight?”

“I suppose not.” He looked thoughtful. “She’s rather feisty. She garners a lot of attention. If we play our cards right-”

“We need to be careful, Theo. We can’t let anyone suspect us. Vincent is already sniffing around, and he has no loyalty to me anymore. He’ll be glad to kill me and move up the ranks. So we let the Gryffindor's and their lot put up the good fight and we’ll work things from the shadows.”

“And until then?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We do what we must.”

  
  
  



	6. Easier Said Than Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Sorry, I know it's been forever but I hope you like the chapter. I'm a little rusty so forgive me if there's a mistake or two.

****

_Monday, October 20, 1997_

Working from the shadows was easier said than done. At least when it came to Theo.

Sure, Weasley and Longbottom repeatedly stood up for the students, but their interference only did so much. Once they were dragged out of class everything always resumed as if they hadn't spoken out at all. They'd stopped using first years and had started going at each other, though, which helped a little. He could stomach going against others his own age, it wasn't as difficult, but watching, feeling, and participating in whatever lesson plans awaited them was taking its toll on his friend. While his insides squirmed almost constantly, Draco could still mask his feelings and keep his head straight most of the time, but he was afraid Theo would snap eventually. For the most part, he'd kept silent and still, never giving his disgust away, but once they were in the relative safety of their room Draco could see the cracks forming. It wouldn't take much to break him.

He'd have to make sure that didn't happen.

"You think you can keep from hexing Alecto today?" He asked Theo as they walked toward the Carrow's class, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but by the look he received he was failing miserably.

"I'll try to contain my rage," Theo replied dryly.

"Theo-"

"I know, alright. I know what I have to do. I'm just..." He groaned and threw his head back. "I hate this."

"You and me both," he muttered, rubbing his throbbing temple. He was really starting to wonder if involving Theo had been a good idea.

When they entered he immediately took notice that a few Gryffindor's were missing, including Weasley. Perfect. It seemed it would be a cursing class again, as well. It would be the third one in a row and he'd always known the Carrow's were sick in the head but he was really starting to worry that they'd lost all sense completely. The time between wasn't long enough to fully recover. The more they forced the students to practice curses, especially Unforgivables, on each other the greater the chances were that some of them would start to go insane. That may not be a problem for them, obviously it wasn't because of the frequency they held these classes, but he was surprised Snape hadn't said something.

Perhaps he couldn't.

"Take your places!" Amycus snapped, causing the class to erupt in a flurry of movement, scrambling to get in their proper spots. By now they all knew where to go and knew not to dawdle. Draco could see the weariness on all of their faces as the lined up. The only ones resting easy were those that had already proved their worth. They knew they wouldn't be on the receiving end today.

Without hesitation, the exchange of curses started one by one down the line. Draco followed along in a sort of detached awareness until his gaze landed on Daphne Greengrass.

She fidgeted with her wand, her eyes staring at a place on the floor as the person ahead of her took their turn. He was sure he wasn't the only one paying attention to her though. He knew Theo and Pansy were both staring at their friend with concern on their faces.

"How much longer are we going to be practicing these curses?" Pansy asked in what anyone else would hear as a bored tone.

"Not enjoying yourself, Ms. Parkinson?" Alecto smiled eerily.

"It's not that." She scoffed, trying to mask her worry. "But as fun as it is to test my abilities, I'm finding myself rather bored."

"Perhaps you should complain to your classmates, then. _They're_ the ones holding you back."

"Does it really matter whether or not the whole class can cast a Cruciatus?"

"Of course it matters." She stated plainly. "How can we expect any of you to be ready for our Lord's new world if you can't even cast something this simple?"

Daphne flinched as if she'd been slapped and he could hear Vincent chuckle darkly down the line. Everyone knew she had the most trouble. It just wasn't in her nature. She and her sister had always been more docile than their peers, so the feelings it took to cast a Cruciatus were completely foreign.

"Ms. Greengrass."

She was shaking when she tried to cast the curse. The boy on the opposite side looked like he didn't know whether or not to be relieved. She tried a few more times but there was no significant pain inflicted.

Alecto clicked her tongue in disappointment. "Oh dear. It looks like another day of failure for you, child." Daphne hung her head in defeat. "Unfortunately you know what that means." They all braced themselves for the witch to unleash an angry punishment, but instead of cursing her right there on the spot she turned to the room. "Hmmm, maybe we should try something different, give you proper motivation for next time."

He knew where this was heading. They were going to have a classmate do it. He prayed to Circe they didn't choose Theo. It wouldn't end well for either of them.

"Draco, if you would." She practically purred.

He jolted at the sound of his name and when he looked at his _professor,_ his stomach sank. He should have figured they'd make him do it. He knew exactly what this was. They weren't just punishing Daphne, they were trying to break him. Kill two birds with one stone by trying to get him to slip up so they could pounce. He had to admit their plan was a good one. It was going to be a little harder to curse Daphne, but he couldn't afford to be outed.

Theo made a noise of protest as he passed him and walked down the aisle. Vincent stared him down and gave him a knowing look when he finally came to a stop in front of her. Her eyes were closed tightly, tear tracks already marking her cheeks from her earlier tries, and he felt sick at the thought that he was grateful. He was bloody _grateful_ that her eyes remained closed. He didn't want it to be his face that flashed in her mind when she looked back on this later.

Amycus cleared his throat. "Anytime now, Mr. Malfoy."

He silently cursed. He really hated the bastard.

He rose his wand and reminded himself that this wasn't him. This was a role he was playing. She knew him. She knew he didn't want to do this. She knew he would never willingly curse her. She knew…...right?

He took one more look at her trembling frame and took a breath before muttering, "Crucio."

The screams she made would probably echo in his head when he fell asleep that night. Too bad he'd already taken a dose of the draught the night before. There'd be no peaceful sleep for him any time soon.

When it was over Pansy pulled her from the floor and set her down in the closest seat.

He didn't look at her once after that. He couldn't. He faced forward and spaced out until he was called upon again, which thankfully was only two more times.

"She knows you didn't want to hurt her," Theo spoke softly a couple hours later. How he always seemed to know what he was thinking irked him.

"If you're trying to ease my conscience, don't bother."

"Draco-"

"I'm going back to our room." He said quickly, cutting him off.

"What about lunch?"

"I'm not hungry." As if he could stomach anything at this point. The mere thought of food had him wanting to hurl. "If anyone asks after me, just tell them I'm indisposed."

Theo protested again but he ignored him. He just needed to be alone for awhile. He needed to get his emotions in check because he was becoming more transparent as the day progressed and it would kill him if he wasn't careful. The terror twins were watching him like hawks and by the looks Vincent was shooting his way, he _knew_ something, or _thought_ he did. If he was going to get him to back off he'd just have to stay one step ahead and outsmart him, which normally wouldn't be hard, but the boy was determined to prove himself. He'd drag Draco through the mud and much more to get ahead. He'd already begun to nudge his way into the Carrow's good graces and showed off his skills at every given opportunity. And the more he showed off, the more obvious Draco's lack of enthusiasm became.

As he laid in his bed contemplating everything he could do from this point on, he came to the conclusion that if he was going to get this under control he'd have to do something about Crabbe before he got a chance to destroy him.

* * *

_Tuesday, October 21, 1997_

Just as he feared, Vincent knew something and he wasn't afraid to let him know it.

"You know, something is really off with you lately, Draco," he said that afternoon in a dissatisfied tone, striding up beside him and matching his steps.

Draco remained stoic and expressionless as he looked over at the other wizard. "Is that so?"

Vincent frowned. "You don't seem as _invested_ in the Dark Lord's cause as the rest of us."

"I apologize. Am I not ruthless enough for your liking?" He asked, hand clenched around the wand in his robe pocket. He wouldn't put it past his "friend" to hex him when he wasn't expecting it. "I don't suppose you'd understand that some of us aren't exactly fond of _literally_ bathing in the blood of our enemies." He kept his voice steady and mustered a cynical grin. "It's such a hassle to get it out of your clothes."

He thought on it for a moment but shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it. I saw the way you looked at Greengrass yesterday-"

" _Daphne_ is a friend and a pureblood just like you and me." He snapped. " _Obviously_ I'm not going to enjoy hurting her just because she can't cast a Cruciatus Curse."

"It's not just her, though. This whole time you've been holding back. You're going easy on _all of them."_

"Have you killed anyone before, Vincent?" he asked, suddenly furious. He'd seen the bloodlust in his eyes but he doubted he'd actually done the deed yet. "I may have fucked up and failed my mission to kill Dumbledore but I've certainly made up for it tenfold. I've killed more people than I can keep track of in the last five months. Muggles, mudbloods, blood traitors, random citizen's _off the street_. I've tortured, I've maimed, I've scrubbed blood from my skin and hair, and I've tasted death on my tongue. I've done things you've probably only seen in your fucked up wet dreams. So, am I going easy on _twelve_ year olds? Of _course,_ I fucking am. If I unleashed my full potential I'd kill them all. And I don't suppose our Lord would appreciate us killing off the next generation of followers for sport."

"You say that, but it almost sounds like you don't appreciate the status you've been given."

"Still as thick as ever, Crabbe." What did he not understand? "The children here are purebloods and halfbloods. Killing them would accomplish absolutely nothing and it would be a _waste_ of magical potential."

That seemed to get through to him as his face changed from one of hostility to contemplation.

"So, did you have any other purpose for this visit, or were you just trying to goad me into some kind of duel?"

He laughed loudly. "If I wanted to duel you, I'd just do it."

"That wouldn't end well, I assure you."

"Maybe _now_ , but one of these days.." He shrugged and backed away. "Who knows."

Draco watched him disappear out of sight and let out a breath.

_Fuck_.

* * *

_Wednesday, October 23, 1997_

He was on his way back from discussing his little Crabbe problem with his godfather when he heard the sound of wailing coming from an empty hall. It was quite common to hear the sounds of agony throughout the school these days so he had every intention to keep walking and ignore it. It shouldn't have been hard, he'd done it many times before, but somehow….the sound made him pause.

_No. Stay out of it_ , he told himself. _Keep walking. Leave it alone_.

But this cry...It sounded almost haunting. It sounded like something he'd heard before, a desperate cry that clawed at him.

_Shit._

He argued with himself for a few moments but he'd made his decision.

_Five minutes._

He'd look into it and if it was something he couldn't deal with in _five minutes,_ he'd leave. With that promise in mind, he changed directions and followed his ears. When he finally came upon the source of the cries at the end of the corridor he frowned. At first, all he could see was tangled blonde hair and blue robes standing in front of whoever was crying, but then the girl turned her head and as soon as he saw the profile he knew exactly who she was.

Luna Lovegood.

She was speaking words of comfort as she suddenly knelt on the ground in front of the student. When he got a good look at her face his stomach fluttered and his heart skipped a beat. The cries that led him here, that made him _pause_ , belonged to the first year girl he'd tortured weeks ago. But instead of her writhing around on the floor in pain, the young witch was simply holding out her arm and muttering something incoherent in between the bouts of crying. The arm was red, swollen, and blistering by the time he got close enough to see it. There was no doubt that the girl had been on the receiving end of a nasty hex, most likely as a punishment, and it seemed the barmy blonde was trying her best to help her. The girl screamed when Lovegood took the cursed arm in her hands. "It's alright." She said and started whispering healing spells and numbing spells over her. She tried anything to ease the second year's suffering, but it was all in vain.

Even from where he was standing he could tell what type of curse was used on her. There was nothing the Ravenclaw could do. Unless someone stepped in with the counter curse it would just have to run its course. And while it wouldn't last more than a day, she'd be in horrific pain until then. Despite it falling within the five minute timeframe, he _almost_ walked away. He _should_ have walked away, especially considering who the student was. He'd promised Snape he'd keep his shit together. He'd told Theo not to paint a target on his back, so what was Draco doing by entertaining the thought that he could help? He _couldn't_ help, not with Vincent sniffing around. If he got a whiff of Draco healing some nobody first year, not to mention the fact it was someone he'd already hurt, it really would be the beginning of the end for him.

The girl cried out again, so shrill and pitiful in his ears, and against his better judgment he quietly moved from his spot by the wall and came to stand behind the duo. Lovegood must have already known he was there because she didn't startle when he cleared his throat. Her patient, on the other hand, went pallid and started crying harder. He ignored her fearful blubbering because there was nothing he could do about it and addressed the blonde witch. "She's been cursed with an advanced stinging hex." He told her. "The only thing that will help her, other than time, is the counter curse."

She looked over her shoulder and smiled, _actually smiled_ and carefully removed her hands from the affected arm. He stayed where he was at behind her, not wanting to scare the girl any more than he already had. "Do you know it?" She asked him.

He nodded and slowly raised his wand, casting the counter curse. The swelling disappeared and the screaming instantly ceased as the spell took effect. When he was sure it was working he stepped back, pocketing his wand.

The girl slumped forward and Luna caught her before she completely passed out."Will she be alright?"

"Don't worry. It's just a side effect," he insisted. "She'll wake up soon."

"Thank you," Luna said, settling the girl against the wall and dusting off her pants.

"I didn't do anything to warrant your gratitude," he scoffed, giving her a nasty look. "I was just sick of her incessant screaming."

She studied him for a second and he felt more vulnerable in her gaze than he'd felt in a long time. It was unlike the scrutinizing and stripped bare feeling he had when his mind was being sifted through by the Dark Lord, but it was unsettling all the same. He felt… dirty. He was almost worried that she'd be stained with his darkness if she stared at him too long.

"You're a gifted liar, Draco Malfoy. Your words protect your standing but I can see the truth behind them."

He felt like his feet had been swept out from under him. He knew she was perceptive. He knew he should have just kept walking so why was he so determined to get himself killed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"It's ok," she told him with a small smile, "I understand why you do it. You are an unwilling player in this game just like the rest of us. And while your role is more sinister, I know you still have good left inside of you."

He felt sick to his stomach. He didn't want to hear that. He didn't deserve the kindness in her eyes, in her words. "I really, _really_ don't, Lovegood."

"One day you'll see it." She smiled before turning away from him. "Of that I'm sure."


End file.
